


Force Bond

by PeriwinkleZarah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Drama, Empathy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kylo Ren is a Dramatic Asshole, Reylo - Freeform, everyone has a lot of feelings, please keep adam driver's bountiful breasts in mind the whole time you're reading this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriwinkleZarah/pseuds/PeriwinkleZarah
Summary: A re-imagining of the shirtless force bond moment between Kylo Ren and Rey in The Last Jedi.





	1. In Which Kylo Ren Regrets His Lack of Social Skills and Rey Has Rather Unfortunate Timing

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless Reylo nonsense.   
> Rating might (re: will absolutely definitely 100%) go up in future chapters.

Kylo Ren stretched and strained, releasing tension from tired and overstressed muscles after his training session. He had been sparring with droids for hours, and the proof of that littered the floor; bits of droid and droplets of sweat were scattered everywhere, and as time had passed they added an interesting challenge in the form of an ever-changing terrain. 

The droids were really never much of a challenge to defeat, and so Ren used these sessions to try new and ever more ridiculous styles of acrobatics and footwork; if he was honest with himself, which he rarely was, the sessions were a way to relax when the strain of focusing on nothing but darkness, pain, and negativity became too much for him. 

Even the Sith needed occasional outlets for creativity, right? Darth Vader can’t have done nothing but brood and murder younglings, Ren thought as he turned and made for the refresher.

He was on board a small ship in sector IV, ostensibly out searching for fresh leads on Resistance hideouts amongst whichever various outpost his intelligence personnel sent him to, but really taking a brief and extremely necessary vacation. It was a little over three days since his Force bond with Rey had begun showing them flashes of each other, and it was driving him mad. 

It was so much easier to give in to hate when you were focusing on betrayal; Luke’s betrayal was simple and murderous, and Han and Leia had betrayed him by sending Ren off with him. Rey had done nothing but fight to exist, and besides that, her ideals weren’t so twisted and malformed as his parents’ were. 

Ren knew she had the potential to understand that what he truly wanted was to be in a position to effect change; there was no one you could truly trust but yourself, and a junker from Jakku would know that better than anyone. Together, they could end both the Sith and the Jedi, and conquer the galaxy as an unstoppable force. 

Ren stripped off his tunic as he entered his room and opened the door to the refresher, and then froze. She was with him, he could see her there in front of him, hair pulled back as usual, her garb as drab and nondescript as ever. He shuddered slightly, and before he could speak, she did.

“Oh… oh my god, not again,” Rey said quietly. Goosebumps flooded Ren’s torso as he stared into her warm eyes. “And you’re… I’d really rather not do this right now.” 

Ren could feel her embarrassment flooding across their shared link, and struggled to control his expression; nevertheless, his ears still went pink, and he was thankful his hair was covering them. It didn’t really matter though: if he could feel Rey’s emotions, she could feel his, and their bond was doing its best to make sure that both of them were turned into stuttering children, apparently, by creating as it was sort of closed loop of never ending, ever expanding discomfort that was extremely… well, discomfiting.

“Could you just um. Put a cowl on, or something?” Rey murmured, and Ren actually barked out a laugh, startling them both. 

“I didn’t know the Sith could laugh,” Rey said, and without thinking, Ren responded huskily, “Neither did I.”


	2. In Which Rey Regrets Her Lack of Private Time and Kylo Feels More Than One Emotion At Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's point of view.

I felt my eyes widen a bit in shock as his laugh rolled around my ears; honestly, more than hearing it, I could feel it in my chest, a pleasant rumble that made it impossible to suppress the flush spreading to my cheeks and the thin area of skin just below my collarbones.

  
I was standing on the pathway somewhere below the Jedi temple, coming back from my lesson with Luke, when the Force bond had snapped into focus; I was exhausted, and frustrated, and really in need of a shower, and the last thing I wanted was to talk to Kylo kriffing Ren, the impetus for 90% of the drama in my life.

  
_He’s an enemy, you idiot, you’re not supposed to find the enemy **arousing**_ , I thought, tamping down on the emotion as hard as I could to prevent it from leaking out across our bond.

  
“Neither did I,” came Ren’s voice, softly and with a bit of lightness I wasn’t accustomed to hearing there.

  
All of this was too confusing: swept up into the drama of the rebellion, kidnapped, freed, finding Han Solo and watching him be murdered by his own son, and then constantly fighting against everything Ren stood for all over the course of a few weeks. Even as I hated him for what he had done, I could feel the light in him still, and I acknowledged there was some sort of strange connection between us, which had to mean something. This added up to a huge kriffing mess that I couldn’t pretend to actually understand or process. And now apparently all it took was a shirtless Kylo Ren and a deep chuckle to send my mind rushing to the fact that I hadn’t been able to masturbate in over a week.

  
_Oh great kriffing gods let him not be able to sense that somehow_ , I thought, and furious now that this pretty, childish, laserbrained _murderer_ was stirring up such feelings in me, I said loudly, “Why did you hate your father?”

  
The slight warmth flew from his eyes instantly.

  
“Why did you hate your father, give me an honest answer.” Wind whipped across my face, salty and thick from the sea, and my eyes started to well up. He was just standing there, a few feet away, looking at me with a strange blankness on his face, and I couldn’t stand it.

  
“You had a father who loved you, he gave a damn about you,” I shouted, stabbing at the air with my finger, anger and grief making my face hot and my eyes spill over with tears. Han had been like a father to me, even though I had only known him a short time, and he had been ripped away from me by his own son, a son who should have been nothing but grateful for what he was so kriffing lucky to have.

  
“I didn’t hate him,” Kylo said, a bit of his calm slipping away as he stepped forward farther into his room, clearly trying to use our height difference to get me to shut up; the Force bond was having none of that, however, and somehow his eyes were still on a level with mine even at this distance.

  
I felt through the bond what he clearly couldn’t emote physically: regret, shame, confusion, self loathing, doubt. All of it was slowly twisting into rage, channeled there as he had been trained by the Sith to do, but I could feel everything still there, roiling beneath his dangerously calm exterior.

  
“Then why?” I said, softening a little as his emotions registered.

  
“Why what?” he asked angrily, moving forward again so that he was right in front of me, completely inside his refresher’s shower. He was fully furious now, you didn’t need forced magical empathy to see that; it was rolling off the man’s tightly wound shoulders down through his clenched fists, and he was trembling slightly. I was suddenly glad that we didn’t seem to be able to actually touch through the connection. I didn’t even have my saber clipped to my belt.

  
“Why what? Say it,” Ren spat at me.

  
“Why did you,” my voice caught a bit, throat thickened by grief, “why did you kill him? I don’t understand.” I knew I looked like a lost child, begging as I was for some shred of reason to cling to, and I didn’t care-- that was how I felt, really, and Kylo Ren, of all people, needed to see the impact of his actions.

  
“I don’t know!” he shouted, raising his fists to his face in frustration, and suddenly I was there on that day, looking through Kylo’s eyes as he stood on the bridge across from Han.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switched to first person for this one, and might go back and edit the first chapter a bit.


End file.
